Cooking Classes with Snape
by Elphius Lndorf Doge
Summary: Our dastardly dark wizard has plans of utmost terror: to give cooking classes. A far out story with many crossovers such as: Predator, Alien, and LOTR.


Yet another stupid short story (which is actually a blurb if you please).

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Cooking Classes with Snape

One day at Hogwarts was all it took for Severus Snape to get annoyed with house elves playing the banjo. Snape eventually went crazy, even though he was already crazy enough, so he decided to go crazier than he usually is (which is considered psycho).

From out of the merry blue comes a turkey, which incessantly gobbles, much to his annoyance, so Snape came to the conclusion that he should start cooking classes and killed the turkey with a heavy duty glue gun.

But then his evil plans were foiled by Inspector Crusoe, which made him angry. So Snape thought for a while.

He then decided that he very much liked thinking, so he continued thinking. Soon afterwards though Severus became very much bored of this superabundance of thinking, so he decided that he would disturb the game of chess that some whack job of a wizard was having with an alien who was mad at a predator, and a predator who was mad at his barbie. You might be tempted to ask him why, but I'd suggest that you don't, because the turkey he killed with a heavy duty glue gun (which turned out to be a mop with shaving cream) was also eaten by him. You might be tempted to ask _me_ what's so wrong with this. So I say because eating a turkey makes you go crazy. If you ask me how I know this then I am much afeared that I will have to force feed you a lightly grilled weasel on a bun.

Snape looked at the whack job of a wizard with distaste, and came to a small conclusion that he could not cook at all. Little did he know that this whack job of a wizard was Gandalf the White (who was until recently known as Gandalf the multi-shaded blue), and that this whack job Gandalf _could _cook. Severus realised this a little while after taking an extra-illegal peek at the super-legal script for this opera-story which is actually non-existent (but nobody really cares about that now, let's be honest with ourselves).

But honestly, do you actually think that Severus Snape would like this Whack-Job Gandalf of White-e-ness? Now what kind of dark wizard do you think he is? On the contrary, Snape thought of Gandalf as rather a has-been. "Really, who uses a staff these days?" Snape muttered to himself, completely unaware that you are listening in on him.

Apparently, Gandalf was listening in on him too. "What are you talking about? Really, I'm curious . . . ."

Snape stared.

Gandalf stared.

Simon stared.

Even Voldemort himself took the time to stare, despite the fact that he was over a thousand miles away.

Last of all, the predator stared, but not at anyone in particular. He was just staring out in space because it was a spur of the moment thing, you know . . . or maybe you don't know?

_Well why would you know?_ The alien thinks sourly as he reads the printed version of this story (yes, apparently printed versions of stories are published before they are even half done) . . . He then eats it because he has not eaten since the last stupid short story called _There Once Was an Ent_, and because he had nothing better to do. It had the stale taste of something between sock and chicken meat. If Snape were to know of this he would curl his lip in a sneer, not out of disdain but because he was doing it just right this moment and I felt a bit bad because this story hasn't much info on the characters already.

Actually for the record the alien's name was Sela, and unlike Snape he knew how to cook, in fact he was the only one who cook. Snape thought he could cook, actually he knew how to make toast . . . but that doesn't really count . . . Gandalf (the Until-Recently-Multi-Shaded-Blue) only knew how to make lembas, which really isn't even considered as cooking (even by the elves). The predator has asked me kindly not to disclose any information on him in this really stupid short story which you are now wondering why you ever wanted to read.

Harry Potter has kindly allowed me to tell you that he is planning on taking over the world, in fact he has already started, one fast food restaurant after the other. He also mentioned at the last moment to tell you that he is currently being held hostage by an evil pink-bunny-chewing cyborg who's name is none of his business (yet of course it is _your_ business).

Simon has left the scene, in fact he asked me tell you that he has never actually been in the scene to begin with, but you don't care so already I regret telling you . . .

Voldemort has now ordered a pizza (thought you'd ought to know).

Snape looked at the chess playing misfits and decided that he needed to say something, and fast. "I have an announcement," he began, "You are all losers-"

"Hey!" Gandalf cried (happily, because it was a spur of the moment thing).

"RAWWRHEEEAHHH!" The alien growled, and licked a hole in the middle of the chess board, which caused a riot in the little chess world where the little chess people come from . . .

"I was about to bring down his king!" yelled the predator. He looked at the alien angrily.

Sela looked as if he were about to bake a batch of cookies, so he ran inside of a tree and did so . . . don't ask me why . . . aliens are odd creatures . . . really . . .

"-You know less than half of my life story, which is something I like, and whoever wrote this story, should have picked a better title, which I like half then less-whatever that means!"

Sela stared (at the bag of flour he was trying to conquer).

Gandalf stared (at a flock of white gulls in attack formation).

A man riding a unicycle stared. Whoever this man was, he was _very_ suspicious . . .

Last of all the predator stared (at Sela's fallen name tag which said: _Hello my name is none of your business and you are a complete idiot_). Needless it is to say that whatever he was staring at hurt his feelings very deeply as he reached out for the alternate version of _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_.

Of course, Dobby the house elf stared, at a bacon rind he had somehow discovered. He then decided to do something else, and looked at Snape, and said, "SO are you going to teach us to cook or what?"

Snape stared.

Gandalf stared.

Sela laughed at the fools in his own alien way.

The predator rifled through the pages of some guide to some galaxy, and then became enlightened in the ways of repairing a chessboard.

Snape swallowed an imaginary marshmallow. "Does anyone know how to make toast?" he tried.

The misfit wizard stared off into space, and was surprised to see a whole new galaxy out there.

The predator said nothing. He was meditating (something rare for any self-respecting predator).

"WHAT IS THIS? SPACEBALLS?" the extremely angry wizard roared.

"_WHERE?_" Gandalf looked around.

"Somebody needs to rewrite this script, aaaaahhhmmmm," the predator chanted, and became a chessboard repair guru using his special repairman powers to fix the hole and bring down Gandalf's king.

_Not bad for a bunch of idiots_, thought Sela, who was listening from the confines of his tree (complete with a kitchen and an angry elf wearing green tights who was tied up with a ridiculously large amount of duct tape).

"Now," Snape repeated, "Who here can cook toast? Come now don't be shy . . ."

"Checkmate," said the predator.

"A little off topic," Snape whispered waspishly.

"HE BEAT ME!" Gandalf sobbed. "OHHH! HE BEEAAAATT MEEEEEEEEEEE! BOOO! HOOOO!"

"Imbeciles," Snape hissed.

Gandalf stopped crying just for the sake of shooting a burning firecracker at Snape which blew up in the wizard's face. "Who's the imbecile now, eh?" Gandalf asked. "Couldn't get into my head with your vile ways to see that coming now did ya?"

"That's it!" Snape cried. "I've had it with you all! I'm now charging interest for receiving cooking lessons from me!"

"But I already know how to cook! Silly dark wizard!" Gandalf replied. "I can cook lembas! I do it all the time, Barbara, tell him I can cook."

The predator gave Gandalf an extra murderous look. "My name is NOT Barbara!"

"I know, I only said it because I am a mean, cynical old wizard who is reading the script to a certain movie when I shouldn't be-hint, hint; nudge, nudge."

"I AGREE!" Lord Voldemort shouted, and won the lottery.

"But anyways," Gandalf continued, "I can cook lembas-"

"Which isn't considered cooking even by the elves," the predator added happily.

"-Shut up. I also happen to be very good at making fireworks-"

"Omnivorous beast!" The predator shook his head.

"-SHUT UP! And I happen to be pro at roasting orc1-"

"Ewww . . ." Snape couldn't help but curl his lip in disgust.

"NOW WE'RE TALKING!" shouted the predator.

"-They're especially good with Diana Sauce . . ." Gandalf slowly trailed off, looking back at space and seeing terrible things . . .

Snape sighed. "I see now," he began, "You are all barbarians from the netherworld!"

"Quite," said Dumbledore, twiddling his fingers. The old man nodded his head and instantly fell asleep.

Snape looked at the old wizard. "What are you doing here?" he asked, slightly surprised that Dumbledore should be here of all places there are to be.

"My wittle muffin pie . . ." Dumbledore said in his sleep.

"IDIOT!"

"I've been waiting for someone to say that for such the longest time!" Voldemort muttered and shook his head.

Dobby disappeared in a puff of pink smoke.

Snape sighed again. He shook his head. This was useless. And it all started because of house elves playing the banjo.

Cheeky little things!

"You should teach us how to make muffins," Not-Barbara the predator said. "Sela can make muffins, that SNOT-FACED-BUGGER-ALIEN THING-OWIKIKIKI!"

"You must be a distant relative," Dumbledore woke up for the singular purposes of saying this to the predator.

"Yes! MUFFINS!" Gandalf cried psychotically while throwing a handful of fireworks at the nearby toads.

"BEAM ME OUT SCOTTY! I RAN OUT OF SUGAR!" yelled Sela, and was instantly beamed out of his tree.

"What has this got to do with Harry Potter?" asked Harry Potter.

"None of your business!" Voldemort snapped, and proceeded to blow up. Before he did so, he changed his mind and robbed a bank.

"BE QUIET!"Snape roared.

"NEVER!" cried the Not-Barbara the predator.

"LET US ALL SING A SONG!" Gandalf suggested.

"GOOD IDEA, BUT-"

"SHUT UP!"

"-WHICH-"

"SHUT UP!"

"-ONE?"

"AGHHHHHHHH!" Snape thrashed about like a not-wounded bear. After thrashing for two minutes, he got bored of thrashing and decided not to thrash anymore.

"How about a song which tells us all about how bad of a cooking instructor Snape is?" Gandalf suggested.

"Oh, what a good idea!" The predator agreed.

"At the count of three," Gandalf began. "One. Two. FIVE!"

"LA! LA!" shouted the predator.

"Oh no," Snape muttered under his breath.

And the wizard and the predator sang:

'SNAPE IS A HORRIBLE TEACHER!

HE LOOKS AND SMELLS LIKE A GARBAGE CAN

AND HE LIKES TO DRINK FROM THE TOILET-

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

"AH! SHUT UP!" yelled Snape.

'HIS MOTHER IS A REALLY FAT HOBBIT-'

"What's a fat hobbit?" Sela said, completely outraged that they should be making fun of Snape without him.

"I'm a fat hobbit!" said Sam.

"Who are you?" the xenomorph asked.

"None o' your bunsiness-as my old gaffer used to say . . ."

"You shut up too!" Snape cried.

Dumbledore woke up. "Oh, you poor thing," he said.

Never again would Severus Snape attempt such a far out feat.

The End.

1Which is definitely not cooking according to the Elves


End file.
